"If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything; it
is open to
everything. In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities,
in the
expert's mind there are few."--Suzuki Roshi

Vicki Woodyard
NDS

The Well-Dressed Mind

What is the well-dressed mind wearing these days? Does it
wear Eckhart
Tolle like a stole? Deepok like Reebok?. I want my
mind to go to a nude beach
and wear its birthday suit. There it could recline on the
sand and fan itself
with the fronds from a nearby palm.

Nothingness is what the well-dressed mind should be wearing. No
Vera Wang,
no Tommy Hilfiger, just nothing, bare beingness. You shouldn't
even need to
wear a sunscreen or an aluminum hat like in the movie
"Signs." No, you gotta
have faith in stark reality.

I want my mind to kick off its shoes. No Manolo Blahniks
for these tootsies.
No Dr. Scholl's for the soul. Nope. I don't need any mental
Frederick's of
Hollywood either. Twoness is not what it's about,
girls. Actually, tell that
one to the men.

You gotta have heart to go nude in your own mind. No belief
system covering
up your private parts. No girdle smothering your innermost
thoughts and
feelings. Just the facts, ma'am, just the facts. And
the fact is, the mind is as
unreal as its clothes. Now don't go telling that to your
shrink. That would put
him out of business. Keep it to yourself.

There is only one problem with the mind's nudity. When it
returns to the
garden (and I don't mean Madison), it will have to meet the
snake. I have been
told that the snake is a rope, though this has not been
scientifically proven.
So when you meet the snake, don't take a bite of the apple and
you'll be fine.
And if you do, grab a fig leaf and hold on. But that's
another story.

"There is something in nature that forms patterns. We, as
part of
nature, also form patterns. The mind is like the wind and the
body
like the sand; if you want to know how the wind is blowing, you
can
look at the sand." - Bonnie Bainbridge Cohen, 'Sensing,
Feeling, and
Action: The Experiential Anatomy of Body-Mind Centering'

. . .

On Saturdays, I am a ghost that wanders a field of 50 or so yoga
students, my senses wide open. Their bodies and breaths move
variably
in cadence with the vinyasa, which is led by the primary teacher;
it
is my task to meld with her intention and the flow of the class
while
providing adjustments and nudges to awareness.

It is a remarkable thing to look out across a sea of bodies in
breath
and movement and see mind.

Even more remarkable is the responsive relationship among breath,
mind and body; when one is nudged, the others shift. The emphasis
within the composition is variable; the best avenue to adjustment
is
variable. This is why the senses must be wide open and fresh to
each
person; the optimal location and focus of the nudge varies from
person to person and changes from moment to moment.

I approach a student who is clearly struggling, collapsed in her
breathing, back arching in compensation, eyes wandering, body
wobbling. Put your consciousness here, I say, touching a specific
spot on her body. Push down through this part to lift up through
this
part, I tell her, demonstrating with my body, then drawing the
lines
over her body. Draw these pieces together in this way, once again
demonstrated. Fix the eyes; soften them. Breathe your ribs into
my
hand. Sigh it out. Breathe into my hand again, this time
receptively,
take your time. I breathe with her, yielding to her, yielding her
to
me. She arrives at stability in alignment; in this moment she is
balanced and enduring. But who, or what, arrives?

There is benefit to seeing it happen 50, 100, 150. times over,
class
after class. Each time, the experience of it becomes clearer and
more
accessible. The pattern emerges.
. . .

Working through individual patterns, it is possible to fine-tune
the
pattern composition of the entire room.

This is initiated by nudging mini-minds towards one-mind. Working
with one student directly will (sometimes instantaneously) tune
the
students near her. Sometimes, all it takes is the thought to work
with a student or the movement towards them, and she will align
herself.

At some point, mini-minds begin to align themselves, tuning to
each
other. It spreads as a wave, one student nudging the next. The
mini-
minds are not required to be consistently present, as the scope
of
the room extends beyond the walls. The time required for this is
variable.

For instance, in 3 years' time, the beginning yoga classes at the
YMCA are no longer true beginner's classes. Furthermore, it is
getting difficult to find a true beginner in this town. Specific
teachers and students are secondary to this shift. The level of
yoga
practiced is in-forming itself.

This in-forming is highly intelligent and resilient. The
mini-minds
are revealed to be tentacles of the one-mind, not the erratic
limbs
they initially appear to be.
. . .

What if. pattern is not the intelligence, but a template,
arbitrary
and assigned?
. . .

-What- in nature forms pattern? (Is it a pattern?)
. . .

Recently on NDS, there was a discussion, initiated by Gene Poole,
about the awareness one may have regarding change. When one is
focused on a subject, and change occurs within the field beyond
the
subject, one will miss the change. By function of how focused
attention works, it will not be possible to register the change.
However, if attention is allowed to expand, then the range of
what is
possible to register expands accordingly.
. . .

It is a Butoh workshop. We are learning to walk.

I stand with the other students at the far wall of the studio,
our
stances relaxed. We raise our arms forward, palms towards our
faces,
hands supported by wrists, as our fingers curl gently to the sky.
Eyes extend awareness to both hands as the eyes remain gazing
softly
forward. The awareness of the hands is maintained as the arms
move
out laterally to the sides, stopping at the edge of peripheral
vision.

We lift one foot, peeling it from the ground, knee drawing up
heel,
thigh drawing up knee. The leg slowly swings forward. We set one
foot, ballmount first, then heel. The weight shifts to this foot.
We
lift the other foot, as it has already peeled from the ground
with
the shift of the weight. The mind moves this leg moves this foot
slowly forward, weight shifting, until this foot, too, is placed
on
the floor, ballmount first, then heel.

All this is held in awareness: my body, the weight of it, the
skin of
it, the movement of it, the tone of it. I feel my connection to
the
floor, the vibration to the floor from other footfalls and the
mechanical hum of unseen equipment. I hear the breathing and
shuffling of my fellows. I see my hands and forearms on the edge
of
my vision, moving against the room beyond.

Not limited to the body, the eyes reach to the periphery, but
what is
seen extends beyond it. Consciousness extends beyond the body.

What happens is truly remarkable.

Ground dissolves and space and time expands.

Every movement is discernable.
. . .

When the eyes fix on a point, the peripheral vision recedes.

When the eyes take in diffuse information from the entire field
of
vision, the fixations recede.

What is possible when the see-saw relationship between these two
ways
of looking is slowed and balanced?

Michael Read
NDS

Self Censorship In The US- Not Unlike The Soviet
Version January 29, 2003

http://sf.indymedia.org/news/2003/02/1568881.php

By Andre Vltchek

An attack against Iraq seems to be inevitable. No matter what
Iraq does, no matter what the UN arms inspectors say or find (or
dont find), the US administration is apparently determined
to invade. Once again it will level the ground (or
blow it sky high) of yet another poor and basically defenceless
nation in the name of civilized values such as
freedom and democracy. While Bush, members of his administration
and his advisors (most of them hardly a bunch of an olive branch
carrying peacemakers) speak about peace and freedom, "our
values" and "civilization", they are, in reality,
simply carrying the long and brutal traditions of Western
expansionism to an extreme.

The administration is tampering with the language on a daily
basis. Words that, for centuries, were sacred to millions of
people all over the world are suddenly turning into meaningless
clichés, to the empty slogans of the propaganda machine.

The government-spread propaganda is mostly primitive,
sometimes even comical. It almost begs to be ridiculed. However,
both the US and European mainstream media is exercising
incredible restrain and self discipline, ready to swallow almost
everything that it is given by the policymakers and top military
brass on both sides of Atlantic. It is becoming a well-groomed
poodle, touchingly attached to its two masters, the big business
that owns it and governments that serve the interests of big
business. It has lost its ability to criticize, its sense of
humour and its sarcastic edge. And it is hardly a secret that the
use of humour, irony and sarcasm is one of the main fears of any
manipulative establishment.

Many of my honourable friends and colleagues in the United
States (those who are refusing to become blind and servile) are
outraged and shocked. I am outraged, too, but not shocked. To me,
it all feels just too familiar: I experienced a similar situation
many years ago, as a child growing up in what used to be known as
the Soviet bloc.

I grew up in the sixties and seventies in what was then the
Czechoslovak Socialist Republic, in a city at the Western extreme
of the country, known for its beer and heavy industry -- Pilsen.
Despite its proximity to the West (Pilsen is just fifty
kilometres from Bavaria as the crow flies), Western Bohemia, as
well as other regions of the country, had to absorb a continuous
barrage of official propaganda channelled through the state
television, radio and censured newspapers and magazines.

Today, nobody has any doubts that the state-controlled media
in the former Soviet bloc countries were bombarding millions of
people with simplifications, half-truths and outright lies.

Lies were printed and broadcast every day. The only (very
positive) difference from the present situation was that nobody
seemed to pay much attention. Nearly every night, I fell asleep
to the sound of the news bulletins broadcast by the BBC World
Service (in English, since the Czech language bulletins were
sometimes jammed). Television sets in almost every household were
tuned to the West German ARD or ZDF, and teenagers were rocking
and rolling to the sound of the latest hits from Radio Luxemburg
or Bavaria3. Books by Sartre, Camus, Beckett and other
influential Western thinkers were available in libraries,
although one had to search for them. Cinemas and film clubs were
showing most of the important world productions with only one or
two year delays.

If it was an intellectual hell, we were growing up in its
first class compartment!

Newspapers and magazines were boring and dull: most of us
bought them just for their crossword puzzles and the latest film
and concert listings. It was obvious that the journalists writing
for them didnt believe a word that they were writing -- it
was just another job, another way to collect a higher than
average state salary, to get by, to survive. In those days,
published journalists had dubious reputations as some sort of
intellectual prostitutes. Those who wrote for the official press
were mostly spineless and mediocre men and women, lacking
self-respect and professional honour. There was no sarcasm, no
irony, nor creative edge in what they did. They wrote what was
expected of them. Then they went home. Twice a month they got
paid. Many of them hit the bottle.

Later, being obsessed with one simple question: how did
the censorship of those years really work?, I spoke to
several former journalists. I was surprised to learn that there
were no fat, sadistic censors standing behind them - far from
it!.

"To be honest with you, there were no censors in
sight", explained one former editor of an important daily in
Prague. "We knew what we had to write, what the party line
was. We knew our limits when we wanted to criticize something.
Nobody had to bother to stand behind our back. We censured
ourselves."

In fact, journalists were expected to be critical of the
system. They were encouraged to bash low-level corruption and
other minor negative elements of the system. As long as they kept
reminding their readers that the system itself was superior, they
were on the right track.

There were no gulags in Czechoslovakia in the sixties and
seventies, no concentration camps, no torture chambers. Those who
crossed the line by choosing honesty and professionalism were not
kidnapped. Parents of dissidents were not tortured before their
eyes. There were no extra-judicial executions (unlike in our
colonies in, say, Central America). Those who decided to tell the
truth simply lost their jobs, became unemployable or were forced
to become manual workers or window washers. Only a few of those
who decided to stand against the system were imprisoned. They
included several dissidents, among them Vaclav Havel.

The system in Czechoslovakia functioned almost flawlessly.
Extreme violence was unnecessary. Fear of losing privileges did
the trick. Almost all journalists knew their duties: they knew
what was expected from them. Mostly they didnt have to be
told what to think and what to write: they knew it intuitively.
They may have lacked integrity, but they werent stupid,
after all. And they had families to feed and houses to furnish!

Does it sound familiar?

Some twenty years later, the situation is not so different in
my adoptive homeland -- the United States. If we decide to tell
the truth, to write about the lies and manipulation of our
government, to challenge the very essence of our system, we are
not risking kidnapping, torture or assassination. We will still
be able to wake up in the morning in our own bed, to drink a cup
of coffee at the corner coffee shop, to take a walk. But our
lives may nevertheless change dramatically. Chances are that we
will encounter evasive answers from otherwise friendly editors of
the magazines that we were used to write for periodically, and
the number of work related emails will dramatically decrease.
Soon, we will have to look for another job. We will still be able
to write for progressive publications (one major difference from
the situation in the former Soviet bloc), but it will not bring
in enough funds to pay for our rent in cities like New York or
Boston.

I understand why some of my colleagues decided to collaborate
with the Bush administration and his crusaders. I disagree with
those who did, but I understand nevertheless. Choices are hard to
make. Many "official" journalists and analysts (we can
now call them this) have families, their children have to go to
colleges, and mortgages have to be paid. It is more comfortable
to suffer during the morning rush hour in the leather seat of the
brand new Saab, than to wait for the commuter bus on the way to
the end of the unemployment line.

The Czech system (or call it regime if you prefer)
was not particularly rich, but it was able to offer some
privileges to those who were seeking them in exchange for loyalty
and servility. Our system today is decisively wealthier: it could
and would happily buy us all if we were ready to put ourselves on
sale. And it is ready to supply us with so many succulent, tasty
carrots that we could easily munch on them for the rest of our
lives.

Our country is extremely rich (as are our allies in Europe and
Asia). It can offer limitless privileges and a high life to those
who decide to play according to the rules - rules that are lately
becoming much stricter, by the way. If we refuse to play the
game, we will probably not be hit brutally by the stick - the
system will simply withhold the carrots.

For some of us, the price of collaboration is simply too high.
We would have to hold on to our sarcasm until we reached the door
of our neighbourhood bar. We would have to overlook the fate of
millions, probably billions of men, women and children who are
suffering all over the world as a consequence of our
brutally-enforced interests. We would have to call war a
peace, aggression a defence, lies a
truth. We would have to bend our own beliefs and learn how
to avoid eye contact with those who had chosen to remain true to
their principles.

But if we decide to tell the truth the way we see it, we
should do it without feelings of superiority and
self-congratulation. In many ways, in our own ways, we are
privileged, too. We are enjoying the true freedom that comes with
being outside the game. We dont have to re-read
our own articles over and over again, nor being scared that our
work could contain some sentences displeasing to those whose
interests we would be paid to defend. After all, what can give
greater joy to a writer than being able to tell the truth to the
best of his or her ability, to express his or her own beliefs, to
speak his or her own mind, to refuse to indulge in humiliating
self-censorship?

I dont think we should be too harsh on our colleagues in
the US and Europe who have decided to compromise themselves. Some
are forced to do so by circumstances. Some, like so many in
former Czechoslovakia, do it in order to provide for their
families.

But neither should we forget the simple words of Czech poet
Jaroslav Seifert, laureate of the Nobel Price for Literature, a
man of lyrical verse, who once failed to contain his frustration
and barked at the full session of the Union of Czech writers:
"The writer should be the conscience of his own nation... If
anyone else omits, or decides not to pronounce the truth, it can
be understood: it can be simply considered as a tactical
manoeuvre. If the writer withholds the truth, he is a liar."

OK, hard to believe, but true. Yours truely has been
hobnobbing with the ruling class.

I spent a week in Davos, Switzerland at the World
Economic Forum. I was awarded a special pass which
allowed me full access to not only the entire official
meeting, but also private dinners with the likes the head
of the Saudi Secret Police, presidents of various
insundry countries, your Fortune 500 CEOS and the leaders
of the most important NGOs in the world. This was not
typical press access. It was full-on, unfettered, class A
hobnobbing.

Davos, I discovered, is a breathtakingly beautiful spot,
unlike anything I'd ever experienced. Nestled high in the
Swiss Alps, it's a three hours train ride from Zurich
that finds you climbing steadily through snow-laden
mountains that bring to mind Heidi and Audrey Hepburn (as
in the opening scenes of "Charade"). The EXTREMELY
powerful arrive by helicopter. The moderately powerful
take the first class train. The NGOs and we mere mortals
reach heaven via coach train or a conference bus. Once in
Europe's bit of heaven conferees are scattered in hotels
that range from B&B to ultra luxury 5-stars, all of which
are located along one of only three streets that bisect
the idyllic village of some 13,000 permanent residents.

Local Davos folks are fanatic about skiing, and the
slopes are literally a 5-15 minute bus ride away,
depending on which astounding downhill you care to try. I
don't know how, so rather than come home in a full body
cast I merely watched.

This sweet little chalet village was during the WEF
packed with about 3000 delegates and press, some 1000
Swiss police, another 400 Swiss soldiers, numerous tanks
and armored personnel carriers, gigantic rolls of coiled
barbed wire that gracefully cascaded down snow-covered
hillsides, missile launchers and assorted other tools of
the national security trade. The security precautions did
not, of course, stop there. Every single person who
planned to enter the conference site had special
electronic badges which, upon being swiped across a
reading pad, produced a computer screen filled color
portrait of the attendee, along with his/her vital
statistics. These were swiped and scrutinized by soldiers
and police every few minutes -- any time one passed
through a door, basically. The whole system was connected
to handheld wireless communication devices made by HP,
which were issued to all VIPs. I got one. Very cool,
except when they crashed. Which, of course, they did
frequently. These devices supplied every imagineable
piece of information one could want about the conference,
your fellow delegates, Davos, the world news, etc. And
they were emailing devices --- all emails being
monitored, of course, by Swiss cops.

Antiglobalization folks didn't stand a chance. Nor did Al
Qaeda. After all, if someone managed to take out Davos
during WEF week the world would basically lose a fair
chunk of its ruling and governing class POOF, just like
that. So security was the name of the game. Metal
detectors, X-ray machines, shivering soldiers standing in
blizzards, etc.

Overall, here is what I learned about the state of our
world:

- I was in a dinner with heads of Saudi and German FBI,
plus the foreign minister of Afghanistan. They all said
that at its peak Al Qaeda had 70,000 members. Only 10% of
them were trained in terrorism -- the rest were military
recruits. Of that 7000, they say all but about 200 are
dead or in jail.

- But Al Qaeda, they say, is like a brand which has been
heavily franchised. And nobody knows how many unofficial
franchises have been spawned since 9/11.

- The global economy is in very very very very bad shape.
Last year when WEF met here in New York all I heard was,
"Yeah, it's bad, but recovery is right around the
corner". This year "recovery" was a word never
uttered.
Fear was palpable -- fear of enormous fiscal hysteria.
The watchwords were "deflation", "long term
stagnation"
and "collapse of the dollar". All of this is without
war.

- If the U.S. unilaterally goes to war, and it is
anything short of a quick surgical strike (lasting less
than 30 days), the economists were all predicting extreme
economic gloom: falling dollar value, rising spot market
oil prices, the Fed pushing interest rates down towards
zero with resulting increase in national debt, severe
trouble in all countries whose currency is guaranteed
agains the dollar (which is just about everybody except
the EU), a near cessation of all development and
humanitarian programs for poor countries. Very few
economists or ministers of finance predicted the world
getting out of that economic funk for minimally five-10
years, once the downward spiral ensues.

- Not surprisingly, the business community was in no mood
to hear about a war in Iraq. Except for diehard American
Republicans, a few Brit Tories and some Middle East folks
the WEF was in a foul, angry anti-American mood. Last
year the WEF was a lovefest for America. This year the
mood was so ugly that it reminded me of what it felt like
to be an American overseas in the Reagan years. The rich
-- whether they are French or Chinese or just about
anybody -- are livid about the Iraq crisis primarily
because they believe it will sink their financial
fortunes.

- Plenty are also infuriated because they disagree on
policy grounds. I learned a great deal. It goes FAR
beyond the sorts of questions one hears raised by
demonstrators and in UN debates. For example:

- If Al Qaeda is down to merely 200 terrorists cadres and
a handful of wannabe franchises, what's all the fuss?

- The Middle East situation has never been worse. All
hope for a settlement between Israel and Palestine seems
to have evaporated. The energy should be focused on
placing painful financial pressure on all sides in that
fight, forcing them to the negotiating table. Otherwise,
the ME may well explode. The war in Iraq is at best a
distraction from that core issue, at worst may aggravate
it. Jordan's Queen Rania spoke of the "desperate search
for hope".

- Serious Islamic leaders (e.g. the King of Jordan, the
Prime Minster of Malaysia, the Grand Mufti of Bosnia)
believe that the Islamic world must recapture the glory
days of 12-13th C Islam. That means finding tolerance and
building great education institutions and places of
learning. The King was passionate on the subject. It also
means freedom of movement and speech within and among the
Islamic nations. And, most importantly to the WEF, it
means flourishing free trade and support for entrepeneurs
with minimal state regulation. (However, there were also
several Middle East respresentatives who argued precisely
the opposite. They believe bringing down Saddam Hussein
and then pushing the Israel/Palestine issue could
actually result in a Golden Age for Arab Islam.)

- US unilateralism is seen as arrogant, bullyish. If the
U.S. cannot behave in partnership with its allies --
especially the Europeans -- it risks not only political
alliance but BUSINESS, as well. Company leaders argued
that they would rather not have to deal with US
government attitudes about all sorts of multilateral
treaties (climate change, intellectual property, rights
of children, etc.) -- it's easier to just do business in
countries whose governments agree with yours. And it's
cheaper, in the long run, because the regulatory
envornments match. War against Iraq is seen as just
another example of the unilateralism.

- For a minority of the participants there was another
layer of AntiAmericanism that focused on moralisms and
religion. I often heard delegates complain that the US
"opposes the rights of children", because we block all
treaties and UN efforts that would support sex education
and condom access for children and teens. They spoke of
sex education as a "right". Similarly, there was a
decidedly mixed feeling about Ashcroft, who addressed the
conference. I attended a small lunch with Ashcroft, and
observed Ralph Reed and other prominent Christian
fundamentalists working the room and bowing their heads
before eating. The rest of the world's elite finds this
American Christian behavior at least as uncomfortable as
it does Moslem or Hindu fundamentalist behavior. They
find it awkward every time a US representative refers to
"faith-based" programs. It's different from how it
makes
non-Christian Americans feel -- these folks experience it
as downright embarrassing.

- When Colin Powell gave the speech of his life, trying
to win over the nonAmerican delegates, the sharpest
attack on his comments came not from Amnesty
International or some Islamic representative -- it came
from the head of the largest bank in the Netherlands! I
learned that the only economy about which there is much
enthusiasm is China, which was responsible for 77% of the
global GDP growth in 2002. But the honcho of the Bank of
China, Zhu Min, said that fantastic growth could slow to
a crawl if China cannot solve its rural/urban problem.
Currently 400 million Chinese are urbanites, and their
average income is 16 times that of the 900 million rural
residents. Zhu argued China must urbanize nearly a
billion people in ten years!

I learned that the US economy is the primary drag on the
global economy, and only a handful of nations have
sufficient internal growth to thrive when the US is
stagnating.

The WEF was overwhelmed by talk of security, with fears
of terrorism, computer and copyright theft, assassination
and global instability dominating almost every
discussion.

I learned from American security and military speakers
that, "We need to attack Iraq not to punish it for what
it might have, but preemptively, as part of a global war.
Iraq is just one piece of a campaign that will last
years, taking out states, cleansing the planet."

The mood was very grim. Almost no parties, little fun. If
it hadn't been for the South Africans -- party animals
every one of them -- I'd never have danced. Thankfully,
the South Africans staged a helluva party, with Jimmy
Dludlu's band rocking until 3am and Stellenbosch wines
pouring freely, glass after glass after glass....

These WEF folks are freaked out. They see very bad
economics ahead, war, and more terrorism. About 10% of
the sessions were about terrorism, and it's heavy stuff.
One session costed out what another 9/11-type attack
would do to global markets, predicting a far, far worse
impact due to the "second hit" effect -- a second hit
that would prove all the world's post-9/11 security
efforts had failed. Another costed out in detail what
this, or that, war scenario Would do to spot oil prices.
Russian speakers argued that "failed nations" were
spawning terrorists --- code for saying, "we hate
Chechnya". Entire sessions were devoted to arguing which
poses the greater asymmetric threat: nuclear, chemical or
biological weapons.

Finally, who are these guys? I actually enjoyed a lot of
my conversations, and found many of the leaders and rich
quite charming and remarkably candid. Some dressed
elegantly, no matter how bitter cold and snowy it was,
but most seemed quite happy in ski clothes or casual
attire. Women wearing pants was perfectly acceptable, and
the elite is sufficiently Multicultural that even the
suit and tie lacks a sense of dominance. Watching Bill
Clinton address the conference while sitting in the hotel
room of the President of Mozambique -- we were viewing it
on closed circuit TV -- I got juicy blow-by=blow analysis
of US foreign policy from a remarkably candid head of
state. A day spent with Bill Gates turned out to be
fascinating and fun. I found the CEO of Heinekin
hilarious, and George Soros proved quite earnest about
confronting AIDS. Vicente Fox -- who I had breakfast with
-- proved sexy and smart like a --- well, a fox. David
Stern (Chair of the NBA) ran up and gave me a hug.

The world isn't run by a clever cabal. It's run by about
5,000 bickering, sometimes charming, usually arrogant,
mostly male people who are accustomed to living in either
phenomenal wealth, or great personal power. A few have
both. Many of them turn out to be remarkably naive --
especially about science and technology. All of them are
financially wise, though their ranks have thinned due to
unwise tech-stock investing. They pay close heed to
politics, though most would be happy if the global
political system behaved far more rationally -- better
for the bottom line. They work very hard, attending
sessions from dawn to nearly midnight, but expect the
standards of intelligence and analysis to be the best
available in the entire world. They are impatient. They
have a hard time reconciling long term issues (global
wearming, AIDS pandemic, resource scarcity) with their
daily bottomline foci. They are comfortable working
across languages, cultures and gender, though white
caucasian males still outnumber all other categories.
They adore hi-tech gadgets and are glued to their cell
phones.

Welcome to Earth: meet the leaders.

Ciao,
Laurie

Viorica WeissmanNDSFrom 'The Prophet', Khalil Gibran

Then said a teacher,
Speak to us of Teaching.
And he said:

No man can reveal to you aught but that which
already lies half asleep in the dawning of your
knowledge.
The teacher who walks in the shadow of the
temple, among his followers, gives not of his
wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness.
If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter
the house of his wisdom, but rather leads you to the
threshold of your own mind.

The astronomer may speak to you of his understanding
of space, but he cannot give you
his understanding.

The musician may sing to you of the rhythm
which is in all space, but he cannot give you
the ear which arrests the rhythm, nor the voice
that echoes it.

And he who is versed in the science of numbers
can tell of the regions of weight and measure,
but he cannot conduct you thither.

For the vision of one man lends not its wings to
another man.

And even as each one of you stands alone in
God's knowledge, so must each one of you be
alone in his knowledge of God and
his understanding of the earth.

J. Heierbach
Talking Stick Wisdom

We see but dimly through the mists and vapors;
Amid these earthly damps
What seem to us but sad, funeral tapers
May be heaven's distant lamps.--Longfellow (1819-1892)